


Eighth Year

by likeabirdthatflew



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Sex, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Public Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 16:29:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6914695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeabirdthatflew/pseuds/likeabirdthatflew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Returning to Hogwarts for her last year, Hermione finds herself infatuated with the wrong Weasley.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eighth Year

September, and the air smelled of smoke and rain. Hermione stared, mesmerized, at the scarlet steam engine parked solemnly at Platform nine-and-three-quarters. How unreal, she marveled to herself, that the previous year was not merely a figment of her, Ron’s, and Harry’s collective imaginations—rather, that it had been only a year ago that they had sat holed up in Grimmauld Place, anxious, scheming, afraid for their own lives. Children were boarding the train now, hugging their parents goodbye, shouting to friends to save them a seat. Hermione was startled to find herself calling them children when, in fact, they were headed the same place as she, with the same goal: to receive another year’s education in wizardry.  
For Hermione, the decision had been a simple one. Completing her Hogwarts education would somehow resolve everything; more so, even, than the war had resolved things, at least for her. Because wasn’t this the point of it all? To ensure that everyone, no matter their blood status, could receive a full degree in wizardry, could learn to master their skills to the highest level, could develop fully as a witch or wizard. So here she was, back again, eager to finish what she had unwittingly gotten herself into at the age of eleven.  
Hermione clambered onto the train just as the guards began blowing their whistles, signaling the train’s imminent departure. She stood with her face pressed against the window, watching all the families waving at their children. She could see younger siblings, waving impatiently, and she knew they must be eagerly anticipating their own journeys on this train. A weight of contentment settled deep inside her as she thought, too, of all the young witches and wizards who were not on the platform—who had no idea, in fact, that they would someday receive a letter informing them of the existence of Hogwarts, of the existence of magic itself! She could recall reading furiously, over and over, Edward Eager’s books, Half Magic, Magic Or Not, Roald Dahl’s Matilda, the Lord of the Rings series, Peter Pan, Narnia, hoping somewhere to find a clue to help her understand what was happening to her. She could remember, too, the sheer relief she had felt at the discovery of Hogwarts, after she had ascertained that it was not just a trick, it was true, and there were other people like her.  
The train began to move. Still deep in thought, Hermione made her way down the corridors warily, looking for familiar faces. She wished Harry and Ron were there, but the two of them had been so excited to start their Auror training that they didn’t feel the need to finish their schooling. (Neither, apparently, had the Ministry: they had accepted the two of them eagerly: The Chosen One and his best friend, who wouldn’t want them?) So, she walked alone, hoping for a vacant compartment.  
“Hermione!” The cry was jarring, and Hermione started slightly as she looked for the source of the call.  
“Over here, come sit with us!” Hermione finally spotted Ginny, leaning out of a compartment door she had just passed, waving frantically at her.  
Hermione turned, and walked in the door into which Ginny had disappeared. Inside were Ginny and Luna, both smiling widely, sitting on opposite sides of the compartment. Hermione, after putting her luggage up on the rack, took a seat next to Ginny, smiling too.  
“I’d almost forgotten you two were younger! I suppose we’re all seventh years now, though,” she said once she was seated.  
Ginny laughed. “Funny, isn’t it?” she said. “We’ll share a dormitory now, Hermione,”  
“Oh yes!” said Hermione. “Nice not to have to hear Lavender prattle on about Ron this year, I suppose,” she added, sighing.  
She and Ron had been together all summer. After Hermione had found her parents and reversed the memory charm on them, she had brought them round to the Burrow, where they had spent a pleasant couple of weeks getting to know the Weasleys before returning home. Hermione, however, had stayed in near constant contact with Ron through the post, firecalls, and many days spent walking through Diagon Alley, wandering around muggle parks, and sometimes, when her parents were out, taking Ron back to her house for the evening.  
“It feels a bit odd, coming back here,” said Luna, jolting Hermione out of her recollections. “I mean…the last time I rode this train, I was kidnapped, and now Voldemort is dead, and everything feels a bit too normal…”  
Luna trailed off. Ginny reached across and patted her knee comfortingly, and Luna turned, reaching into her bag, and pulled out the most recent Quibbler. Opening it, she soon became immersed in its contents, seeming to forget that she had been speaking. Ginny turned to look at Hermione, grinning. Hermione slowly grinned back.  
Hermione and Ginny spent most of the ride talking to each other, distracting themselves, perhaps, from painful memories, awaiting with some trepidation their arrival, knowing that the last time they had been at Hogwarts was for the final battle, where the glow of victory could not completely overcome the darker shroud of what had been lost. Hermione knew that the summer had not been easy for Ginny, who had been especially close to the twins. Still, Ginny seemed perfectly cheerful as she told Hermione of her hopes for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, of which she was now captain.  
Sooner than Hermione could believe, they were changing into their robes, readying themselves for their upcoming arrival at Hogwarts. As the train slowed to a stop, Hermione gazed out the windows, searching for the familiar giant, lantern-lit figure. And finally, there he was. As soon as the doors opened onto the platform, Hermione rushed out and ran to Hagrid, embracing him ferociously. Startled, he stared down at her for a moment, then returned the embrace.  
“Hagrid! Oh, it’s so good to see you!” Hermione exclaimed, breaking free at last.  
“Hullo, Hermione!” Hagrid beamed down at her. “Good ter be back, eh?”  
“Wonderful!”  
Ginny approached, carrying Crookshanks’ basket, followed by Luna. Hermione took Crookshanks from Ginny and kissed her on the cheek in thanks. Hermione was not usually one for impulsive acts, and she felt her cheeks reddening alarmingly. She turned to face the carriages, but in the split-second glance she spared at Ginny before turning, she noticed her ears turning pink, just like Ron’s. Hermione smiled softly to herself.  
They said goodbye to Hagrid, who was herding the first years towards the boats to take them across the lake, and headed up to the castle in one of the thestral-drawn carriages. The sorting and the feast were more somber than usual, and Professor McGonagall spoke briefly about the war and the rebuilding that was still taking place in the school. Hermione and Ginny gripped each other’s hands under the table. They sat like that, staring ahead at McGonagall, not acknowledging their fiercely clasped hands, until the Sorting had finished and the food was served. They didn’t speak much as they ate, both lost in their private thoughts.  
After dinner, Hermione and Ginny walked together up the long flights of stairs towards Gryffindor tower. Hermione had declined Professor McGonagall’s offer of prefect status, preferring, this year, to focus solely on her studies. She had had enough responsibility in the last year to last a lifetime. Yawning, the two girls climbed through the portrait hole and up the steps to the girls’ dormitories. In the seventh year dormitory, they were joined by several other girls whom Hermione recognized, but whose names she could not recall. They were all introduced, and all soon were preparing for bed.  
Hermione’s bed was in the corner closest to the window. Ginny was to her right, and the other girls followed to the right of Ginny. Hermione stripped off her robes, noticing as she did so that Ginny kept glancing her way, resolutely fixing her gaze elsewhere every time Hermione spotted her looking. Once changed, Hermione curled up in bed, watching Ginny lazily as she put on her pajamas and got into bed herself. They said goodnight, and went off to sleep. 

 

***

 

The first few weeks of school passed relatively uneventfully. Hermione was kept busy by her rigorous coursework, and Ginny was kept busy by training for the upcoming Quidditch season, in addition to her own schoolwork. Hermione found herself more and more longing for Ginny’s company. At first, she thought it was simply because she missed Ron, and Ginny was as close to Ron as she could get at the moment. But she soon realized that her longing transcended that, and was instead based upon the memory of Ginny’s soft cheek under her lips, the tightness of her calloused fingers intertwined with her own, the way Ginny whispered “goodnight”, as if the word were meant for Hermione alone. Hermione did not know what to make of these feelings, and settled for ignoring them for the time being. She did not want to become distracted, and the advanced magic she was learning required full concentration.  
However, one night, Hermione found herself alone in the common room, the rest of the Gryffindors having gone to bed already. She finished her Transfiguration essay and set it aside, but was not yet ready to go up to bed. She thought of Ginny lying asleep in her bed upstairs, and wondered if she was dreaming of Hermione. As if by accident, Hermione’s hand slid beneath her robes and underwear. She was startled but pleased at the same time by the wetness she found there. Thinking of the dreams Ginny might at that very moment be having, Hermione began to rub. She closed her eyes, imagining it was Ginny’s hand, and not her own, that was bringing her such pleasure. The dying fire crackled as she slid a slick finger up into her vagina. She gasped, then covered her mouth, quieting herself so that no one might accidentally be awoken. She added another finger, moving the two until she could not bear it any longer. She came thinking of Ginny’s shining eyes and rounded lips, arching her back in silent ecstasy. 

 

***

 

The first Hogsmeade weekend was set for the second Saturday in October. At breakfast one morning, Hermione, trying her best to sound casual, asked Ginny if she would like to have a drink at the Three Broomsticks with her that day. Ginny smiled at her delightedly.  
“I’d love to!” she replied. “I’ve missed seeing you, these few weeks.”  
Hermione’s stomach fluttered at Ginny’s words. “I’ve missed you too,” she said.  
As she continued to her lessons that day, Hermione could not stop thinking about the forthcoming trip. She knew it was unlikely that Ginny would consider it a date—especially as Hermione was still dating Ron, and Ginny was dating Harry—but the knowledge that Ginny missed her carried her through the day as though she were floating on a cloud.  
The reminder of Ron brought about mixed feelings for Hermione, however. They had been in correspondence, of course, sending owls back and forth weekly. However, their letters had been progressively more and more concise and lacking in detail or emotion, and she was surprised to realize that she didn’t miss him—or at least, didn’t miss him any more than she missed Harry, simply as a friend whom she loved, but, platonically. She supposed that it would not do, in the long run, for them to stay together, but she viewed their split with trepidation. She was sure he would take it horribly, more so if he knew her true reason for ending their relationship.  
For Hermione could now admit to herself solidly and shamelessly that she was in love with Ginny. Ginny, who had been so brave during the Battle of Hogwarts, who had done her utmost to protect everyone she loved, who made Hermione want to learn more about Quidditch only because Ginny loved it, and Hermione wanted to love every part of Ginny.  
And so, Hermione counted down the days to the Hogsmeade trip with great excitement and nerves, and refused to think about her situation with Ron for the time being. She was not sure what exactly she would do, when finally she and Ginny were together, but she knew that she had never felt so strongly for anyone, ever. Not Ron, not Viktor.  
Finally, the day arrived. Hermione woke to find Ginny already up, moving around and getting dressed. She tried to hide her anticipation as she, too, got up and dressed, saying a casual “Morning,” to Ginny, and receiving a similarly casual one in return. They walked down to breakfast with one of the other girls in their dormitory, and made small talk about the weather, which was surprisingly sunny, and their hopes that Filch wouldn’t go overboard with his Secrecy Sensor as they left the castle. They ate their breakfasts without incident, although Hermione was unable to force down much more than several bites of toast.  
The girls squinted up into the sunshine as they stepped outside the relative darkness of the Great Hall.  
“Lucky the weather’s so good,” commented Ginny.  
“Lucky…”said Hermione pensively.  
Ginny laughed. “Do you remember when you thought Harry had spiked Ron’s juice with lucky potion?” she asked.  
Hermione turned, and said, defensively, “It looked like he had! And Ron played like he had too! It was a logical conclusion!” But then she noticed the teasing smile on Ginny’s face and smiled too.  
“Shut up.” She murmured, swatting at Ginny’s arm.  
Ginny grabbed Hermione’s hand in defense, and Hermione felt her strong fingers grasping tightly at Hermione’s own. Surprisingly, after several seconds, Ginny did not release her hand. After a moment, Hermione relaxed her fingers, grasping Ginny’s more comfortably. Ginny, too, adjusted her grip slightly, and the two continued their walk, arms swinging together.  
Upon their arrival at the Three Broomsticks, they each ordered a butterbeer, and found a quiet table in a corner at which they sat across from each other, smiling shyly. Hermione’s butterbeer left a foam mustache on her upper lip, which Ginny playfully reached across the table to wipe off. Ginny’s fingertips on Hermione’s lip produced such an intense feeling that Hermione’s mouth fell open of its own accord.  
They spoke of their classes and professors and hopes for their future. Never once did the topic of Harry or Ron come up, and Hermione noticed the absence conspicuously. Finally, after downing several butterbeers each, they stood up and prepared to leave.  
As it was still early in the day, the road back to the school was clear, and Hermione and Ginny walked leisurely down it, relishing the sunshine. All of a sudden, a carriage flew down the road straight towards the pair of them. Ginny hastily pulled Hermione to the side, and they narrowly missed being crushed by its heavy wheels. Hermione looked up at Ginny to thank her, and found her face mere inches from Ginny’s. The thanks was lost in her throat as she stared at Ginny, unmoving, as Ginny stared as steadily back. Hermione’s gaze drifted down to Ginny’s lips, which were parted as though she, too, had been on the verge of saying something.  
Ginny’s hands were on the small of Hermione’s back. Hermione felt herself leaning into Ginny, closer and closer she came, and then Ginny was leaning in too, her fiery head tilting to fit with Hermione’s, her breath sweet in Hermione’s nose, and then there, they were kissing. Slowly, chastely at first, both of them adjusting to the feel of the other’s lips. Hermione’s stomach seemed to have shot up out of her body, and her fingers, she realized, were grasping Ginny’s arms in a death grip. She loosened her hold and moved her hands down Ginny’s arms, to her back, to her sides, up a bit, and the kiss became less patient and more forceful, their tongues jutting into each other’s’ mouths, their bodies mashed together as close as they could go.  
Suddenly, Ginny pulled back. Hermione, worried, asked at once, “Is everything all right?”  
“Yes,” said Ginny, “yes, everything is wonderful…do you know how long I’ve wanted to do that?”  
Hermione exhaled deeply. “Why didn’t you?” she asked incredulously.  
“I never expected you’d feel the same!” Ginny exclaimed. “Well, I mean, you’ve always followed the rules so thoroughly.”  
Hermione laughed. “What rules am I breaking now then?” she asked.  
“Well,” said Ginny, and Hermione’s muscles tensed again, “what about Harry and Ron?”  
“We’ll have to break up with them,” replied Hermione carefully, “if we want to be together, I mean,”  
She waited for Ginny’s reply with trepidation.  
“I’m worried about him,” said Ginny, “I don’t want to make myself another loss for him, not when he’s lost so many people already,”  
“True,” said Hermione, who had foreseen this qualm, “but won’t it be better in the long run if you don’t stay with him just because you feel you should? Harry’s strong, he can get over you.”  
“Not,” Hermione added, as an afterthought, “that you won’t be difficult to get over.” Here she smiled up at Ginny flirtatiously, grasping her hand tightly.  
“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” began Ginny, “well, actually, I can, because everything you say makes sense, but this more so than anything else, I think.”  
“So…Harry?” prompted Hermione.  
“I think we should break up,” said Ginny, adding “and what about Ron? Have you two split up?”  
“No,” replied Hermione, “not yet. But I think I should. He and Harry can console each other. Anyway, they’re so busy with Auror training that they probably won’t have much time to dwell on it.”  
“I suppose so,” said Ginny. “I’m a bit worried about Ron, actually, you know how protective he gets. Remember Michael Corner?”  
“How could I forget?” said Hermione. “But since when has Ron stopped you from dating whomever you like?”  
“Of course,” said Ginny. “Everything will be alright.”

 

***

 

They walked back to the castle together, hand in hand, looking over at each other every so often and smiling secretly each time they did so. Hermione knew she ought to be concerned about their imminent necessary conversations with Ron and Harry, but for the moment she was too preoccupied by the bursting bubble of happiness she felt each time a strand of Ginny’s hair blew into her face, or each time their hips brushed together as they walked.  
They made their way instinctually back up to the Gryffindor common room, which, upon their entry, they found nearly deserted, but for a few first- and second-years playing Gobstones and doing homework. They turned to look at each other. Ginny raised her eyebrows, and Hermione felt the butterflies rising in her stomach again.  
“Shall we go up, then?” asked Ginny.  
“Yes, I think so,” replied Hermione, and together, they climbed the stairs to the seventh year girls’ dormitories, which were empty.  
Instantly, the two fell together, Ginny grasping Hermione by the hips, pulling them towards her so that their hips crashed together as their lips met. Mouth parted, Hermione felt Ginny’s tongue enter her mouth, tracing the tips of her teeth, and then meeting with her own tongue, curling around it, spiraling like a washing machine. Clumsily, they stepped together over to Hermione’s bed in the corner. They fell upon it heavily. Ginny broke away from Hermione and clambered on top of her, shedding her robes as she did so. Underneath, she wore nothing but underwear, and she and Hermione stared at each other for a moment as she rested above Hermione’s body.  
Hermione could feel herself shaking, out of nerves or excitement, she wasn’t sure, and she reached up to grasp Ginny’s shoulders, which she pulled towards her, and they kissed again. Ginny tugged at Hermione’s robes, which, together, they removed, awkwardly drawing them out from beneath Hermione’s body. And now both of them were nearly naked, Hermione marveled. Ginny’s hands traveled upwards from Hermione’s waist, lightly brushing against her breasts. Hermione rolled onto her side to give Ginny access to her bra clasp, which she undid rather impressively quickly, Hermione thought.  
Rolling back onto her back, Hermione suddenly became aware of the reality of the situation.  
“I’ve never done this before, you know,” she pulled away from Ginny to say.  
“Neither have I!” said Ginny. “Don’t you want to learn together? I know how much you love learning…”  
Hermione’s eyes widened and she laughed. “I do! Yes, of course I do!”  
“Do you want to keep going?” Ginny asked.  
“You mean…sex?”  
Ginny rolled her eyes. “No, I meant going to Ireland.”  
Hermione scrunched her eyebrows in confusion.  
“Yes, I mean sex!” Ginny said in response to Hermione’s concern.  
Slightly embarrassed, Hermione rolled her eyes back at Ginny. “I want to,” she said, “do you?”  
Ginny smiled fondly at Hermione and replied, “Absolutely.”  
Ginny leaned in to kiss Hermione again, but soon pulled away, instead kissing Hermione’s neck and collarbones. She made her way further down, leaving a trail of kisses in a perfectly straight line down Hermione’s chest, at the same time tugging gently at her nipples, which produced several small, unwitting gasps from Hermione. She could feel Ginny’s mouth trickling lower, and she felt herself becoming slightly tense as she waited for Ginny’s wet tongue to land where she knew it eventually would. And, eventually, it did.  
She was surprised by its warmth, she hadn’t thought to expect that. It curved and curled around her in odd ways, she hadn’t expected that either. However, it soon ceased its teasing spirals and began to lick faster, harder, and Hermione found she liked that very much. She felt very warm, and very wet. Ginny’s tongue dove into her, right inside her vagina, and she groaned in pleasure. Hermione’s fingers were tangled tightly into Ginny’s hair, and she ground her hips into Ginny’s face, pulling at her hair. Ginny’s tongue drove wet circles into Hermione’s clit, and Hermione moaned at the intense sensation. Ginny’s hands were gripping tightly at Hermione’s hips, and Hermione could feel them holding her down, grounding her as she bucked almost wildly beneath Ginny’s sweeping tongue. Hermione could feel she was on the verge of an orgasm.  
“Oh God, oh God, oh GOD!” she exclaimed, grasping at Ginny, the bedsheets, anything she could reach.  
Moments later, Ginny emerged, grinning up at Hermione. Hermione stared at her, wild-eyed, before leaning forward to kiss her. She could taste herself on Ginny’s lips, which was somehow rewarding. She flopped onto her back on the bed, still breathing heavily, and Ginny crawled up to join her.  
“That was—nice,” she managed, between gasps.  
“Nice!” Ginny laughed. “I should expect it was rather more than that, judging from the noises you made.”  
“It was…enchanting,” amended Hermione. “Let me do you.”  
“Okay!” said Ginny cheerfully.  
Hermione ran her hands over Ginny’s naked torso. While one hand cupped Ginny’s breasts, the other floated down between her legs, where Hermione’s fingers brushed softly against the hair there. She felt a hot wetness emanating from the center, and she pushed inside with her fingertips, slowly exploring and familiarizing herself with that dark, damp cavern. Ginny was emitting soft noises like a small animal. Hermione extracted her fingers and instead repositioned herself so that her mouth was between Ginny’s legs. She stared for a moment, somewhat awestruck that she had gotten herself into this situation, and then dove in.  
She had had some worries about the taste, but she found that it was not at all objectionable. She tried to imitate what Ginny had done that had felt so good, flicking lightly at Ginny’s hard little clit, swooping up and down. Sticking her tongue experimentally into Ginny’s vagina, she tasted sweetness, salt, and a slightly acid taste all at once. Above her, Ginny moaned. Hermione licked harder.  
“Finger me,” Ginny gasped.  
Hermione raised her head. “At the same time?” she asked.  
“Yeah, can you?’  
“I’ll try…”  
Unsure, Hermione looked back down. She stuck a finger into Ginny’s vagina, cautiously pushing inside. Then, she moved her mouth back down, rearranging herself so that she could move both her arm and her tongue. Finally settled, she began, again, to lick, moving her finger in and out at the same time. Ginny gasped and moaned louder than before. Hermione’s legs were falling off the end of the bed, but she payed them no attention as she focused on controlling her tongue and hand at the same time.  
“Don’t stop!” Ginny gasped.  
Hermione continued, appreciating the feeling of Ginny’s wetness on her finger. And then, nearly shrieking, muscles contracting, back arching, Ginny came. Hermione pulled her finger out and kissed Ginny’s inner thighs several times before moving back to lie with Ginny, kissing her sweetly, both exhausted and spent.  
“We’d better get dressed,” Ginny said after a minute, “the others will be back from Hogsmeade soon, I expect.”  
Hermione groaned and sat up. The two girls pulled on their clothes and headed down to dinner, hand in hand. Hermione was not sure where this was headed, or if it was a bad idea, or whether it would soon end—but she was glad that it had, for now, begun.  
***

 

Six months later, it was April, and spring was finally beginning to creep across the grounds of Hogwarts. Hermione and Ginny had been held up in Charms, helping Professor Flitwick tidy his classroom after they had spent a particularly rambunctious class performing charms on monkeys.  
“They’re second best to humans!” Professor Flitwick had said, adding, “And I’m not allowed to tell you all to put charms on each other, so, this is our alternative.”  
The girls headed down to dinner then, later than the rest of the school, and as a result, the dining hall was emptier than usual. . Luna, eating alone at the Ravenclaw table, spotted them and waved, then stood up and walked over.  
“Where’ve you lot been?” she asked. “Dinner started ages ago!”  
They explained about Professor Flitwick and the monkeys as Luna took a seat opposite them.  
“Do you know,” she began, “that the Crumple-Horned Snorcack is actually quite like a human as well? In fact, they share rather more similarities with humans than even monkeys, I’ve found.”  
Ginny, nodding politely, could see that Hermione was poised to begin an argument with Luna about the Snorcacks. Hoping to avoid that—and excited to see Hermione’s reaction—Ginny reached casually under the table, hiked up Hermione’s robes, and stuck her hand down Hermione’s pants.  
Hermione yelped.  
“What? What’s wrong?” asked Luna, distracted from her speech.  
“Nothing—” gasped Hermione, “—I just—stubbed my toe, that’s all.”  
Ginny’s fingers moved around Hermione’s clit, pressing and rubbing slowly, teasing her. She flicked it once, making Hermione jump slightly. Luna, back on the topic of the Crumple-Horned Snorcack, began again to talk about its many wonders. Ginny nodded along, her fingers increasing their speed, and Hermione, staring resolutely ahead, spread her legs farther apart, allowing Ginny more access. Ginny’s fingers dipped down, grazing Hermione’s vagina, then pulled up again, moving in quick rotations, then up and down. Hermione let out intermittent breaths, almost pants, as Ginny’s fingers brought her to high arousal. Luna, oblivious, chatted on.  
Ginny was sure that Hermione wouldn’t be able to take much more of this before she came, and indeed, Hermione was fast approaching an orgasm. The idea of breaking the rules—Ginny fingering her in a public area—was exciting. No one could tell what they were doing. Hermione looked up at the staff table, wondering what they would think if they knew what she was doing at that very moment. It was then that Hermione came. She opened her mouth wide and pressed hard into Ginny’s fingers, twitching. Ginny glanced over and smirked, knowing what she’d done.  
“Are you sure you’re alright, Hermione?” Luna asked.  
“Oh—oh yes—quite alright, thank you, Luna.” Hermione replied breathily.  
“Well…I ought to be off to bed,” said Luna, seeming to have exhausted the topic of the Giant Squid.  
“Nice talking to you!” Ginny said brightly.  
“Yes—nice,” Hermione added.  
Once Luna had walked away, Hermione turned to Ginny.  
“That was unbelievable!” She exclaimed. “I really can’t believe you would do such a thing.”  
“Believe it, darling,” said Ginny.  
Six months, Ginny marveled, since they had shared that fateful first kiss on the road to Hogsmeade. Six months, too, since they had broken up with Harry and Ron, who, indeed, had been able to take care of themselves. She had heard rumors that Harry and Draco Malfoy had gotten together, of all people. She was still not sure she believed that one. And she knew, too, that Ron had reunited with Padma Patil, who was working for Gringotts with Bill. Ron hadn’t even been too disapproving of her and Hermione’s union—he had written, in a letter, “…of all the people you could be with, I couldn’t have chosen a better candidate myself. At least she won’t get you pregnant. Good luck.”  
Hermione grinned at Ginny, and Ginny grinned back.  
“Bed?” Ginny asked.  
“Yes.” Said Hermione.


End file.
